


Alchemy Began in the Kitchen

by Raisans_Grapeon



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Before they decide what to do tho, Edward Dealing Without Alchemy, Edward Elric Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt Edward Elric, Hurt/Comfort, Obsessive Behavior, One Shot, Post-Promised Day, Stress Baking, Winry is Best Girlfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26498335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raisans_Grapeon/pseuds/Raisans_Grapeon
Summary: Winry is woken up by a commotion from downstairs in the kitchen. Edward never got to sleep in the first place.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell
Comments: 15
Kudos: 92





	Alchemy Began in the Kitchen

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to this little one shot! 
> 
> I made this mostly because I really like writing stress baking and thought it'd fit well with a certain angry boy. 
> 
> Usual preamble: I am not a professional, nor have I ever taken any creative writing classes! Critique of this and any of my works will forever be appreciated and encouraged! Any comments, as well, are also greatly appreciated! Comments are great motivators for writers such as myself!
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading!

It was late, and Winry was tired. She had spent the whole of the day working on automail, testing different setups to see if she could improve on her design. Something sturdy, but light. In the end, she had to leave the prototypes on her work desk for the night and turn in. A good night’s rest was just what she needed to clear her head for tomorrow’s continued experimentation. Ed was still up somewhere in the house, so she wandered for a bit, wanting to let him know that she was going to bed.

She found him in the kitchen, apron tied around his waist and long, white sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His sunflower blond hair was neatly pinned back and pulled up to keep it all out of his face while he worked. Around him, fresh bags of dry ingredients sat on the counter, accompanied by bowls and cartons filled with milk and eggs. Idly, he poured melted butter slowly into an egg and milk mixture while whisking it wall together, taking great care to make sure the heated butter didn’t cook the egg. 

“Hey,” Winry called from the doorway, leaning against the frame as she stretched her mouth into a yawn. “I’m going to bed.”

All she got from the man was a soft grunt of acknowledgment. He placed the measuring cup holding the butter in the sink for cleaning later.

“Don’t stay up too much later.”

Barely a nod was shot back.

“What are you making this time?”

Finally, Ed responded. “Cookies. Using that cardamon stuff that Ling sent us last month.”

“Make sure you write the recipe down if it’s good. I don’t want to have to track you down for the recipe box in your head,” Winry lightly joked, already pulling back towards the stairs. “G’night.”

A quick “Night” and Ed was deaf to the world once more.

Ascending the stairs, the soft sound the whisk hitting against the sides of a glass bowl slowly muffled into silence. Winry shuffled into the room she shared with Ed, changing out of her work clothes and into something more comfortable. Exhaustion crashed onto her shoulders like a ton of bricks, forcing her to fall over onto her side of the bed. Her limbs sluggishly curled into a comfortable tuck. In the back of her mind, she thought that maybe she should take her earrings out before drifting off, but her mind was already out to sea.

Sleep was welcomed as quickly as it came, falling into a soft rhythm. Winry had no worries about waking up when Ed eventually clambered up to bed as well. He was usually pretty quiet, even with his automail. It would take more than a grumpy alchemist sliding in next to her to pull her out of her slumber.

Of course, that meant that the sound of a metal sheet hitting the ground jerked Winry out of an otherwise blissful sleep. The warbling noise petered out, followed by silence. Instantly, questions and fears rushed into the forefront of her mind. 

Was it an intruder? Someone trying to rob them? It was rare, but not completely unheard of in the backwater town of Resembool. Aiming for stealth, Winry fumbled around in the dark for her wrench that she kept on the nightstand on her side of the bed for situations like this. She passed up on the idea of lighting a candle. She knew the house layout well enough to not need it in the dark, and she didn’t want whoever it was to see her coming and have time to escape or get the jump on her.

Creeping ever so slowly through the halls, the softer sounds from downstairs came into earshot. Someone below was muttering out curses, causing Winry to grip her weapon tighter. The bastard broke into the wrong household.

At the bottom of the stairs, the mechanic could see a flickering light coming from the kitchen doorway. The cursing was louder now, and the sound of clinking metal was audible. Winry had to remind herself to breathe and be calm, remembering Ed once told her that composure in a fight would help her out greatly. Pressing her back into the wall beside the doorway, she craned her neck to try to peek around the entrance to assess the situation.

Then she sighed, body relaxing and her grip on the wrench relaxing. 

Turning to stand in the doorway, hands placed firmly on her hips, Winry got a better look at the scene before her. 

Edward was facing away from Winry, on his knees, and bent over a fallen baking sheet. Vaguely ball-shaped formation of dough littered the ground as the man hastily gathered it all up into his hands. Hands that trembled ever so slightly, but trembled none the less. He looked all around disheveled, hair haphazardly pulled up into a bun that was far beyond messy. Strands of sunflower blond hair fell out and hung around his shoulders. No part of his body was spared from being smattered with flour, and even bits of dough stuck to his shirt. The whole kitchen didn’t look too much better. Empty and half-full bags of dry ingredients crowded the counters, accompanied by bowls, whisks, and cartons of milk and eggs. 

Winry sighed again, rubbing at her eyes with one hand. “Geez Ed,” she mumbled with sufficient irritation. She passively noted how his shoulders stiffed when she made her presence known. “Why the hell are you up so late? And what are you even doing?”

Ed didn’t turn to look at her as he continued to gather up the ruined dough. His voice came out hushed as if he still had to be worried about whether or not someone in the house was still slumbering away. “I… uh…” For a moment, he seemed to be contemplating pushing out a blatant lie before his broad shoulders sagged, his form further crumpling. “I’m baking cookies…” was all he said in defense.

Frustration etched itself into Winry’s brows, drawing them further down as she glared into Edward’s back. “Are you serious!? Did you even go to bed since I last saw you?” A pregnant pause hung in the air. Another deep sigh. “Of course not.” She stepped fully into the kitchen, dropping to a crouch next to the man, peering around his bangs to get a good look at his face.

The almost sorrowful expression Edward had as he stared down at the lump of dirtied dough in his hands punched Winry in the gut. His brows were tightly knit together and a frown was hard-set in his face. The soft skin beneath his eyes was bruised from exhaustion and puffy from long since dried tears. 

As worry wormed its way into her heart, the mechanic reached up to rest on Ed’s back. Gently, she rested her wrench on the ground, leaning forward to get into his periphery. “Ed,” she started, taking great care to clean her tone of anything that could come off as patronizing at that moment. “Why are you still making cookies?”

Ed’s frown deepened and his hands began to tense around the dough. His eyes started to shine a bit more in the soft candlelight that he had left. The longer he stayed silent, the more Winry feared he wouldn’t say anything else for the rest of the night like he tended to do when he got caught with his heart on the floor. 

But, fortunately, tonight was not one of those nights. Ed started slowly, half stuck in his head as he murmured, “I… I don’t… know. Or… more like I can’t quite… remember. I was fine… I was fine when you went to bed.” His pace began to quicken, eyes squinted as his expression shifted to something more pensive. “I baked the cookies. When I was done, I felt… wrong. I did quite understand but… I… I didn’t want to stop. So I didn’t. I just kept making more batches. They all came out great. They all tasted great. But I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t understand. I still don’t.” At some point, Ed’s hands clenched, nails digging into the soft dough and his arms shaking with the strength he put into keeping his fists balled tight. 

With the utmost care, Winry reached over and took hold of one of Ed’s fists, cradling it in her own, calloused hand. “What happened today? Before you started baking,” she clarified, looking at him expectantly.

Confusion clouded his eyes, but Edward responded anyway. “Al came back from East City library. He… uh… brought some research he found and we went over his research paper he was working on about Alkehestry. We talked about it for… An hour or so? Before he had to go. I think he was getting on a train for Central. Roy promised to let us into the libraries if we ever needed them.” For the first time, his golden eyes flicked over to meet with Winry’s own pale blue ones. 

Realization dawned fairly quickly the moment Ed had mentioned Alkehestry. “Ed. Isn’t the reason you started baking because that whole business of ‘alchemy began in the kitchen,’ or whatnot?”

Catching on quickly, Edward huffed out a tired laugh, releasing his fists and letting the dough that didn’t stick to his hands fall back to the tile flooring. Shifting his legs out from under him, the former alchemist pulled his knees up to his chest and let his head hang. “Of course. Even when it’s out of my life, it’s causing problems for me,” he softly mused, arms resting atop his knees.

Winry settled herself next to Ed, leaning into him. She let her hand still resting on his back to travel up his spine and tug his hair loose of his bun. “I know you’re fine without alchemy, but like the dummy you are, you forget that you all but defined yourself as an alchemist for most of your life. It’s not unusual for people who base their whole self around one thing to get a little lost when that’s taken from them.”

“But I gave it up! I don’t need it, and I never really did! I should be fine to just move on and forget…,” Ed’s voice trailed off before he continued, much weaker. “Just forget what it feels like.”

As much as she wished she could understand, Winry wasn’t an alchemist. From the resigned look on his face, she guessed Edward knew this too. Still, she did her best to offer comfort. She continued, “It was still a part of you. Even if you don’t like to think so, it still is. I’ve had a pianist come to us, asking to replace his hand so he could play again, but after examining the stump, it was clear the nerves were too shot for automail to link up properly.” She paused to gauge Ed’s reaction so far. Even with his thousand-yard stare, she could see his gears turning dutifully in his head. “He had been desperate, begging Granny for another option, a way to make it work, but we couldn’t. I thought he was lost for good, set with having to find a new purpose, but Granny said that there was more to the piano than the music.”

Gingerly, Ed raised his head to make eye contact with Winry again. He almost looked surprised, though Winry had thought he would’ve been smart enough to realize the alternative.

Sending him a small smile, she concluded, “it’ll probably always hurt to see others do something you can no longer do, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t more to alchemy than an array, right? I mean, how else do you get entire libraries full of research? As good as you are at baking now, you can’t really invest days into it without drowning everyone in sweets.”

With a small huff that could barely pass off as a laugh, Edward resumed cleaning up the remaining dough from the tiles. “Why are you always right?” It was mumbled, but with a twinge of endearment. 

Winry chuckled back, standing up to start cleaning off the counters. “Because I know you more than you know yourself, dummy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading through to the end! Any comments, critique or otherwise, are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Thank you again, and please, stay healthy!


End file.
